


Could Have Loved You

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-26
Updated: 2004-08-26
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Just a little bit of angst that my muse wanted me to write.





	Could Have Loved You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

~*~*~ 

"And did you say that she's pretty? 

And did you say that she loves you? 

Baby I don't wanna know." 

~*~*~ 

 

Willow gazed down at the piece of paper, still held tightly in her hand after a night of crying that really was for naught. Crying couldn't bring him back or make him love her the way that she loved him. 

 

Crying couldn't ease the pain of her broken heart. 

 

And crying couldn't make everything better. 

 

In fact, all crying did, in the end, was make her face splotchy, her eyes red, and give her a headache to rival all other headaches. She was exhausted both physically and mentally. How could he have done this to her? After nearly a year together, how could he have done this? 

 

It was beyond comprehension. 

 

~*~ 

*One Year Ago* 

 

Willow flipped her hair over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the darkness of the nightclub. Of all the places in St. Louis, why had Giles told his contact that she would meet him -here-? 

 

At a strip club. 

 

She shook her head. There was no way in Hell that Giles knew where he had sent 

her to. His delicate British sensibilities just wouldn't allow for that. He'd have a fit, maybe even a heart attack, if he ever found out that she had set foot in a place like this, much less that he had been the -cause- of her being there! 

 

"Damn vampire." 

 

"Tsk, tsk, cherie. One would almost think that you do not like my kind." 

 

Willow whipped her head around to glare firmly at the man that was standing behind her. She would have been able to tell he was a vampire even if it weren't for the fact that he practically glowed to her inner senses with the sickly red color that all of his kind carried in their aura. He was too obvious about what he was. This was a vampire that had nothing to hide and flaunted as much. 

 

"I don't." Her reply was snide, bordering on rude. What did it matter at this point? If this was her contact then he deserved it for keeping her waiting for almost an hour. If he wasn't her contact he had no business being anywhere near her and she would be more than happy to roast him nice and toasty with a fireball. 

 

'Looks like someone beat me to it, though.' She gasped in a purely mental fashion as he turned to walk around to the front of the table, giving her a good view of the side of his face that had been in the darkness only moments before. It looked like flesh that had been melted by fire, or some other means. Undoubtedly the worst scarring she had ever seen on a vampire, Willow didn't quite know what to make of it. Usually a creature with that much scarring would be long dead from the wounds or the shame caused by such wounds. 

 

But this vampire seemed fine with it. 

 

Either that, or he was good at hiding his discomfort. 

 

"If you do not like vampires, Mademoiselle Rosenberg, why did you come here?" 

 

Ah. 

 

So this was her contact. 

 

Well, Giles -had- said that she was meeting a blond haired vampire with blue eyes. 

 

"You're Asher." It wasn't a question, just a statement, and she was rewarded with a nod. "Good. Can we get this over with?" 

 

She reached under the table for her bag, and the book that was within it, intending to give it to Asher and get the Hell away from him. He was too much for her. She didn't actively dislike vampires, despite what she had just told him. It was more that they gave her some serious wiggins, complete with creepy crawlies all over her skin. She could block it out for a little while, she knew, but in the end the creepy crawlies would come back and she'd be looking at them like just another walking corpse. 

 

Cute walking corpses, most of the time; but still just members of the living dead. Not worth her time. 

 

But Asher was already different. Just being near him made her want to leap into his arms and do all of the naughty things she had always wanted to try and never had the heart to just -do-. She wanted to run her tongue up and down his scars and kiss them better if it was within her power to do so. It could be, she reasoned. The limits of her powers were far from tested, and healing was practically second nature to her. 

 

A hand clamped around her wrist as she grabbed for the bag. She looked up, startled, into Asher's eyes. He wasn't even trying to enthrall her, yet he was doing just that. Without even exerting a single iota of his power he was making her want to spend time with him. It was embarrassing, really. 

 

"Stay and have a drink with me?" 

 

What could she do but agree? 

 

~*~*~ 

"Time casts its spell on you but you won't forget me. 

I know I could have loved you but you would not let me." 

~*~*~ 

 

*Six Months Ago* 

 

The covers were silk, the comforter was filled with down feathers, and she was warm and cold at the same time. 

 

Such was the life of Willow Rosenberg, former Wiccan of the Scoobies, now evening companion to Asher. 

 

She sighed and pulled herself from the bed, barely sparing a glance at the vampire that was laying there, dead to the world, just as he was each and every day when the sun rose in the East. It was scary most of the time, watching the life leech out of her lover. 

 

Yeah, scary -most- of the time - utterly weird and disquieting -all- of the time. 

 

She walked silently across the room, staying quiet even though there was no way for her to wake Asher once he slept. In the mirror she could see him lying there, his face turned upwards, the sheet pulled up to his stomach. There were no scars now. She had healed them all as she had thought she could, leaving him the picture of beauty. He was like something from a Renaissance painting - beautiful and mysterious, unflawed and godlike. 

 

But the one thing she wanted him to be, he wasn't. 

 

The one thing she needed him to be, he couldn't be. 

 

She needed him to love her. 

 

And that wasn't possible. His heart, and soul, belonged to a woman that had been dead for many, many years. His Juliana. 

 

How many times had he cried out her name during their most intimate acts? And how many times had she hidden her tears from him or waited until he was out of the room to bemoan the injustice of it all. 

 

Why hadn't she been able to keep him at arm's length, like all the others she had met during her life? 

 

Why had she fallen in love with him? 

 

She picked up her hairbrush, running it through hair that reached easily to her midback. She kept it long for him, because he said he liked it. 

 

He could like her hair, but he couldn't love her. 

 

Where was the fairness in the world? 

 

~*~*~ 

*One Month Ago* 

 

"When he leaves you, you will come to me, non?" 

 

Willow looked at the man that had spoken, instinctively comparing his dark grace with the light beauty of the vampire she had fallen in love with. His words hurt, but not because of what he said. No, they hurt because of the delicate accent that poured from his mouth, so much like Asher's. They were both French, both gentleman from another century. 

 

Jean-Claude knew Asher better than she could ever hope to know him. 

 

And he was telling her that Asher -would- be leaving her. Not -if-. 

 

When. 

 

~*~*~ 

"Can you tell me was it worth it? 

Really I don't wanna know." 

 

~*~*~ 

 

~My Dearest Willow, 

 

I have been unfaithful to you. Not in the manner of physicality, but in the affairs of the heart. Those times we were together were magnificent, but my heart was not fully in them. My heart does now and will always belong to another. 

 

My Juliana. 

 

I wish I could somehow make you understand that I did not start a relationship with you with the intention of hurting you. I merely wanted to try to get over a woman that I will never again see. 

 

But that is impossible. 

 

When she died, she took my heart with her. 

 

I will always care for you, my dear one. And if you need anything, you have only to ask myself or Jean-Claude. I will see to it that you want for nothing. Thank you for giving of your time and your heart so freely. 

 

Asher~ 

 

~*~*~ 

 

The letter fell to the floor, Willow's teary green eyes following it in its fluttery decent. She stifled a sob, biting her lower lip. This room was filled still with things that reminded her of him. Everything from the silken sheets on the bed, to the dinner jacket still draped over the back of one of the lounging chairs. 

 

She stood up, then, stepping on the letter he had left for her. Her clothes were in the closet, waiting to be packed. Xander and Buffy were in Sunnydale, and they would welcome her with open arms. She didn't need Jean-Claude's help. And she definitely didn't need Asher's. He hadn't needed her love, even though she gave it freely. 

 

So she didn't need him. 

 

She'd prove to the world, and to herself, that she didn't need him. 

But oh, how she could have loved him. 

 

If he only would've let her. 

 

~*~ 

"Time casts its spell on you but you won't forget me. 

I know I could have loved you but you would not let me." 

 

~*~The End~*~


End file.
